Trinity
by Damien
Summary: One Love... Two Girls... Three Hearts


Tenchi Muyo:

# Trinity

By

### Damien

** **

Disclaimer: The characters of Tenchi Muyo belong to AIC and Pioneer LDC. They are used without permission.  
  


Prologue:

Parallels

It was late evening and the weight of the day was beginning to weigh heavily on his young shoulders. He placed the charcoal stick down for a moment and massaged his left shoulder where it met the base of his neck, not minding the stain it caused to his shirt.

He held his work at arm's length. Taking a break to appraise it before using his thumb to lighten some areas of her hair. He smiled at the finished piece, imagining in place of the mating of black and white that covered the page, shades of deep majestic purple in her hair, crimson eyes and blushing cheeks. Satisfied, he brought out his protective spray and covered the canvas with it, preserving his vision of her. She was perfect. He would always picture Aeka like she was in this moment in time, captured in his artbook and his heart. Woman, princess, Queen of Jurai, she would always be the shy, rose-cheeked girl who smiled at him that day in a secluded cabin. He placed the book down leaving it open, and picked up the one next to it.

Sitting down and leaning against the trunk of his tree, he flipped through the many images in the artbook. He had a separate book for each of them, and despite their divergent personalities, he felt that one was no less perfect than the other. Reaching his favorite picture of her, he smiled the exact same smile as he had moments earlier.

It was his rendering of their first meeting, at least the first one he remembered. He chuckled lightly to himself as he looked at it. It was a slightly modified version. Gone was the emaciated corpse of his memory, replaced by a young woman who lay in the ethereal glow of a small pond deep within a darkened cave. Its cold waters covering portions of her handcrafted frame her tattered seven hundred year-old clothing could no longer conceal. Still a great deal of flesh was visible and a portion of his mind thought it funny he had little difficulty sketching nudes, but could not look at one in the flesh. However, it was not her nakedness that drew his eyes, but her calm and serene sleeping face hiding her golden eyes. Woman, demon, pirate… this was the Ryoko his heart saw. He placed the book down against the trunk of his tree leaving it open.

He took a few steps back, making sure not to step in the pond, and pondered the two pictures… 

…And the choice before him.

Ryoko handed Aeka the box of tissues as they both wiped the tears from their eyes.

"That was so sad," Ryoko said still sniffling. 

Aeka just nodded her agreement, too moved for words.

The room was dark; they had turned out all the lights in the living room when the movie started. Now only the passing credits on the black screen provided any light.

It had been an emotional movie, one of love, denial and death. A young man of low social standing had fallen in love with the daughter of a local merchant, but lacked the courage to tell her so. The procrastination cost him dearly as the young lady in question also caught the eye of a wealthy businessman. It had happened that the young woman was also in love with the young man, but she soon tired of his inaction, and agreed to date the businessman in hopes of spurring on her love. Her plan both worked and failed. The young man indeed was forced to confront his feelings and went to the girl's father to declare his intentions of seeking her hand. The father scoffed at the young man, having taken his daughter's dating of the businessman as an indication of her feelings, had already promised her hand. Distraught at hearing this, the young man challenged his rival to a duel. He lost. The young woman knew none of this and in her ignorance to the true story and bitterness for having been abandoned by her love, married the businessman. A year later, upon hearing the truth and of the depth of the young man's love for her, she took her own life. She was found by her husband, a dagger in her breast, a smile on her face.

Aeka turned on a lamp that was next to the sofa she and Ryoko were sitting on. For a time, the two just sat in silence thinking, until Ryoko stood, a determined look on her face.

Despite having lived near five thousand years now, one thought kept repeating itself in her mind. 

Life is short.

"*DAMN IT*!" she shouted, before teleporting away.

Aeka knew exactly where she was going, her heart having told her the exact same thing Ryoko's heart had told Ryoko. In a most unprincessly way she bolted from the room and up the stairs to Tenchi's room, both to stop Ryoko and plead her own case.

Taking in a deep breath and slowly letting it out Tenchi gathered up the two books and began packing up his things. When he finished he again sat down against the trunk of his tree, Funaho. It was strange, the way he thought of this area as now belonging to him, a part of him. In the past, at times like this, he might have gone to the area around the cave, but something seemed to missing there of late. It didn't hold the same magic as it had before. He wasn't sure why that was, but here at the small clearing he felt safe and secure.

'They'll be looking for me soon,' he thought stretching cramped muscles. Sure enough, the sound of an explosion made its way from the direction of the Masaki home.

Moments ago what had been two examples of perfection became the sources of his migraine. While his heart tended to gloss over such minor things as acts of random destruction, the intellectual part of Tenchi found them a source of unending annoyance. As the reasoning half of his brain took control from the artistic half, he stood and rubbed his temples. 

"What happened this time?" he said allowed starting to make his way back to the house before thinking better of it.

"Grandfather's first," he said. "Can't very walk into the house with these." Meaning the artbooks. He kept them in his Grandfather's shrine to avoid… misunderstandings.

Half way up the steps to the shrine, Tenchi looked up towards the heavens. What he saw gave him a sense of foreboding he hadn't felt for some time.

Two shooting stars, but he knew that wasn't what they were.

She had spent most of her childhood learning the etiquette, the culture, and the refinement necessary of a Crown Princess, but what she really had needed was a personal trainer. It was moments like these that Aeka almost envied Ryoko's powers… almost envied. As she raced out of the living room, vaulting over a small table and up the stairs towards Tenchi's room, Aeka cursed the precious seconds Ryoko's power of teleportation afforded her alone with Tenchi.

Cresting the final step, she misjudged slightly in her haste and fell ungraciously to the floor. She stood quickly, her mind not even registering the pain in her leg or the spreading area of red on her kimono sleeve. She hadn't the time. Aeka knew exactly what was going through Ryoko's head. At this very moment she was probably trying to seduce Tenchi's heart with some base act of lavisciousness. Pressing herself against his firm lithesome body despite his protestations. Forcing him to kiss her from head to toe all over her alabaster skin less he feel the sting of her whip. His hands running through her long purple locks as their passion culminated into a never before reached crescendo. His begging his 'princess' to both stop and continue, until… until…

"RYOKO!"

It was a sweating and flushed Princess Aeka who threw open the door to Tenchi's room, her chest heaving.

"Ryoko! Get your filthy… Um… Where is Tenchi? Aeka asked looking around the darkened room, the object of her affection no where in sight.

"He's not here, that's for sure," Ryoko answered in a tired voice. She floated over to the empty bed and sat on its edge facing toward the window and away from Aeka.

A little voice in Aeka's head told her she should protest Ryoko's lounging on Tenchi's bed, but she ignored it for once and instead walked over to the bed herself and sat on the side opposite Ryoko.

"I guess our efforts were for naught, Lord Tenchi seems to be elsewhere this evening," Aeka said breaking the silence.

Ryoko remained quiet.  
  


"I imagine we both became a little overly excited after watching that film…" Aeka continued looking out the still open bedroom door and into the lonely hallway. 

Again, Ryoko made no effort to respond, but clenched her fist in an effort to reign in her emotions. Why did this have to be so difficult? Why did her life have to become so complicated? Trapped in the cave, looking at the young man before her like a child peering through a toy store window, she had made such wonderful plans. She had only to free herself and everything would be perfect. Well, she was free… but things were far from perfect. What did she have to do? What hadn't she done?

"…And acted a bit precipitously, racing up here the way that we did," Aeka finished, finally feeling the pain in her arm and leg.

Becoming painfully aware of the silence she was receiving, Aeka turned to face Ryoko and was surprised by what she saw. Ryoko sat on the edge of the bed, an act at any other time would have been cause for great concern, but now was different. Her knees were propped tightly against her chest, her arms holding them snuggly in place and her head resting gently on top as her lonesome gaze wandered the dark night outside the large picture window of the room.

Perhaps it was the emotional state the movie they had shared together had left them both in, or maybe it was the fatigue brought about by the lateness of the evening, or it could even be that this was the first time she had really looked at Ryoko… * really looked *. She was no monster. Her slumped shoulders and wilted demeanor were the picture of anything but that of a confident space pirate. No, here was a woman not so different from herself, sad, lost and alone…

…No difference at all really.

Ryoko felt Aeka's stare upon her and lifted her head around so that she was facing the First Princess of planet Jurai. Although, Ryoko thought to herself, Aeka didn't look much like the spoiled brat with a silver spoon up her ass that Ryoko had always pictured her as. Aeka showed none of her usual regal bearing. Her kimono was torn at one of the knees and her hair was frazzled in places, matted with sweat in others. However, it was Aeka's sullen and watery eyes that held Ryoko's attention. Ryoko could not help but think that she might as well have been looking in a mirror.

Sisters in so many ways

They sat there, each one staked out on her own side of Tenchi's bed. Each one just staring at the other and in so doing, looking at themselves.

Standing outside the entrance to his grandfather's shrine, Tenchi soon forgot about the two objects that he had seen dance in the night sky. This was not a moment he was looking forward to. Not only had he forgotten about this evening's sword practice, his grandfather always gave him a hard time whenever he tried to return his art works to their hiding place. Deciding it would be far easier to face his grandfather's chastisement than to be discovered by one of the girls and have to explain, he steeled himself, took a step forward and raised a hand to knock on the door.

"You're late, Tenchi. Come in," his grandfather's voice came from inside.

'I hate it when he does that,' Tenchi thought to himself, before sliding open the door.

"Yeah, about that, Grandpa. I'm sor- " was all Tenchi said before tucking himself into a forward roll and just dodging the bokken strike that had been directed at his head. Keeping a firm grip on his two artbooks, he quickly stood and performed a no hand cartwheel to avoid the follow-up strike aimed at his knees. Returning to his feet once again, Tenchi quickly scanned the room looking for a means to defend himself. The fact that one arm was needed to hold his artwork was proving to be a big hindrance, His grandfather noted his predicament.

"So… what exactly did you find so pressing that you could write off your old grandpa?" Katsuhito asked with a forward thrust of bokken directed toward Tenchi's chest.

With his foot, Tenchi flipped a small table over onto its side, blocking the bokken strike. Smiling at the maneuver he answered," It's nothing like that. I… I just got distracted and lost track of time."

"Is this what distracted you?" Katsuhito asked holding up his grandson's two art pads.

Tenchi looked at his grandfather, down at his empty hand, and then back at his grandfather. "Grandpa, when did you…."

Katsuhito ignored his grandson's question. Instead he straightened the knocked over table and retrieved a tray and tea set, which he had put in a safe place earlier. Sitting down he motioned for Tenchi to do the same.

"Tenchi," he said pouring himself and Tenchi a cup of tea. "Your training is not something you can casually neglect. You've been missing practice off and on for several weeks with varying excuses." He paused, taking a sip from his cup. "This will be the last time." He eyed his grandson over his raised teacup.

Tenchi sighed and nodded his acquiesce.

Katsuhito nodded also and took another sip from his cup. Tenchi's tea remained untouched.

"Your old grandpa is not completely out of touch. I realize young men such as yourself have other pursuits and that swordsmanship is not all life holds or respects," Katsuhito finished with a smile. He put his tea down and picked up one of the art pads. Casually, he examined the many pieces within. Some were pencil sketches; others were done in charcoal or pen. There were even one or two simple paintings. Katsuhito would linger on some pieces longer than others, his expression never changing from that of passive interest. Tenchi watched him with growing trepidation.

Finally, Katsuhito reached the last work in the book, the charcoal portrait of Aeka that Tenchi had just finished. He looked at it for what Tenchi felt was an eternity. 

"Needs work," was all the comment he made before setting the open book down. He then picked up the other book and gave it similar scrutiny. All the while he was looking at the two books, Katsuhito tried to hide the growing pride he felt inside. It was a task that was becoming increasingly difficult each day. Tenchi had inherited his father's gift for painting. Tenchi's skill with the sword had also improved greatly, despite what he had said earlier about missed practices. The time was approaching when the legendary swordsman, Yosho, would have no stances left to show his protégé, no sword patterns left to teach. The rest of Tenchi's education would have to be left up to experience, not always a kind master but a necessary one if Tenchi was going to reach his potential. One day, maybe not tomorrow, probably not very soon, but one day, the legendary Yosho would lose. Katsuhito was very much looking forward to that day. A small proud smile broke through his stoic veneer.

"So, which one?" Katsuhito asked.

"Huh?" Tenchi answered startled. He had been looking at Aeka's portrait, which lay on the table.

Katsuhito's smile broadened and he placed the pad in his hands down next to other. With a sweep of his hand, he indicated the two portraits. One was the charcoal sketch of Aeka, the other a pencil sketch of Ryoko sleeping on the family couch.

"Which one do you like better, this one?" he pointed to the picture of Aeka. "Or, this one?" Meaning Ryoko.

"I don't know," Tenchi replied turning his gaze away from the two pictures and his grandfather.

Katsuhito let his disappointment show in the form of a frown. There was one area that Tenchi was sorely lacking. It showed in his swordplay and it was evident now.

"You must have some opinion," Katsuhito said refilling his cup.

Tenchi let out a protracted sigh, wanting to talk to someone but not sure what to say. In the end, he suffered in silence.

"…After all, they're yours.'

Tenchi visibly relaxed. "Oh, you were talking about the portraits," he said under his breath.

Unfortunately, it was loud enough for Katsuhito to hear.

"Was I now?" he asked with raised eyebrow.

"I'm tired."

"Well, it has been a long day."

"No, I don't mean physically tired… there is that too, of course, but my heart, my heart is tired, Ryoko."

The two were still in Tenchi's darkened room, laying a top his bed, looking at the ceiling.

Ryoko turned her head, looking questioningly at Aeka. "Your heart?"

Aeka looked at Ryoko for a moment and then returned her gaze to the ceiling. For a time silence once again reigned in the room.

"I'm tired too," Ryoko finally admitted. "But…"

"But" Aeka agreed nodding her head, maintaining her vigil of the ceiling.

Silence

"I just want to know…" one began, "…do I have a chance." The other listened intently. "Am I in his heart at all?"

"I want to know… I *have* to know…"

'I have to know…'

The question that filled both their minds was: "How to know"?

Coming Eventually:****

## Trinity

Part 1: Desperate Plans


End file.
